


Jim

by Moonlightkitten



Series: Jim the Porg [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Hux has a different perception of reality, M/M, What Have I Done, What the hell did I just write?, and certainly the weirdest one I've ever written, apparently, companion to Hairdresser, crackship, one of the weirdest fics you will ever read, so much crack, you laugh but i'm not even the only person who writes fic for this ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:18:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14908188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlightkitten/pseuds/Moonlightkitten
Summary: Three times Armitage Hux fell in love with Jim the Porg.





	Jim

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, if you haven't read Hairdresser, maybe you should read it first. Considering how weird this is, though, it probably won't make much of a difference.

Everything started with those infernal dreams. Hux would, more often than not, wake in a cold sweat, images of a small, squeaking bird haunting him, every precise detail complete. It was odd, really, how intricate those dreams were-- almost as though someone were projecting actual photographs of a porg into his mind. 

 

Disturbing thought. 

 

It wasn’t as though Hux had any enemies (or so he thought. Being rather unobservant, he believed that the people of the galaxy adored him. That vanity probably wasn’t helped by the fact that his personal secretary burned his several tons of daily hate mail.) So, clearly, he figured, no one would have the  _ audacity  _ to force-project this porg into his mind.  His second hypothesis was that he was suffering from some sort of mental disorder caused by too much stress. (It seemed he also did not notice the daily packets of Ambien slipped into his pasta by Roseanne, his personal taste-tester. Nobody really knew if she was operating alone or under the orders of Kylo Ren, but either way they allowed it to continue, because it was just too damn funny.)

 

Then Ren himself interfered, prescribing him with Jim, a therapy porg, and Hux did a double-take. Jim  _ was  _ the porg he dreamt about, down to each minute feather discoloration. Dammit. Clearly, he had been suffering from premonitions of the future, which was doubly concerning given that in one of these visions, Hux had been wearing a wedding veil and holding hands (flippers?) with Jim. 

 

Most disturbing. 

 

Hux’s natural conclusion about all of this was that clearly that dream definitely meant that he would be marrying the porg in the future. As much as the idea horrified him, he bore no doubt about that whatsoever.  (He began browsing wedding dresses for himself on Galaxyzon, lest he miss a good deal. He really wanted something lacy.)

 

However, the mere idea of marrying this small, strange creature made him sob into his pillow every night for several weeks, until Jim finally hopped up onto the bed and patted him gently with a flipper. 

 

“Get off me, you infernal bird,” hissed Hux, slapping away the flipper and pulling the covers up over his head. 

 

Jim responded with an ear-splitting shriek that lasted for several minutes.

 

_ What a beautiful voice,  _ thought Hux blissfully before he could stop himself,  _ as though an engine and a banshee had a child. _ He vaguely registered angry voices coming from Kylo Ren’s room from across the hall (wait, was that the scavenger girl? No, he must have been imagining things), yelling at him to stop that infernal screeching. What were they  _ talking  _ about? This porg was gracing them all with a positively angelic lullaby. They should have considered themselves lucky. 

 

When a lightsaber smashed through his door, he finally gestured to Jim to stop singing. Clearly, some people just couldn’t appreciate art. 

 

Either way, from that day on, he was a little bit less averse to the idea of marrying this porg. 

  
  


He was really growing fond of this bird, he had to admit. It was rather difficult not to, of course, since Jim was so  _ thoughtful.  _ For example, he brought Hux daily presents (very nice ones too, things like dead rats and regurgitated worms that Jim had clearly put in so much effort to obtain) and was  _ always  _ in the mood to go swimming, which was one of Hux’s favorite hobbies. 

 

It wasn’t a bad working relationship, for all intents and purposes. He decided to take it a step further. Just out of curiosity. 

 

“Jimmm,” he slurred one morning, nursing a large glass of Dayquil (which Kylo Ren had  _ sworn  _ was an excellent cure for drowsiness), “I am awwwwware that this is a big ssssstep forward, but wannnnnnnnnnnnnnna date?” 

 

Jim screamed again, and Hux smiled sleepily, even as muffled curses came from the room next door. 

 




 

In the end, Jim was the one who proposed marriage to Hux, (or at least he was pretty sure that the bird’s offering of a half-mangled copper ring counted as a proposal.) Finally. Hux dug out the large, gorgeous ballgown that he had ordered for himself five years earlier, announced the exciting news to Presidents Ren and Rey, who just sort of exchanged amused glances (which he assumed was some form of congratulations, although they  _ did  _ refuse him a promotion, which rankled a bit.), and ordered four folding chairs. That would suffice for twelve thousand or so guests, wouldn’t it? 

 

It was the happiest day of his life, although the weather was not favorable. It was far too sunny and bright. Weddings should be overcast and dark. Everyone knew that. 

 

Either way, it brought him quite the sense of fulfillment to watch the high and mighty Kylo Ren (or Ben Solo, as he was apparently going by now at the urging of his silly girlfriend) toss flowers at the ground, halfheartedly kicking his heels together as Rey snickered. Hux was  _ so  _ glad that Ren had lost that bet. 

 

Jim looked magnificent as always, in a too-large red tie that dragged on the ground. And when Hux asked him to grace the guests with a song, he delivered beautifully, screeching out a lovely rendition of Carmina Burana. (He was sued later for some reason, over claims of bleeding ears and the like, which was clearly just a vile attempt to defame Jim’s wonderful falsetto.)

  
And later, when Hux had been promoted to Official Mascot of the Republic and he celebrated the achievement with his groom (who sadly was stuck in the far less glorious position of treasurer for the entire galaxy), he realized with a start that, contrary to everyone’s expectations, he had been able to live out a fairytale romance.    
  
He wouldn’t have wished for anything else.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The worst part about this fic is that I'm not even on drugs or anything, so I have no excuses.


End file.
